Dragon Age Shorts
by Solona Amell
Summary: Random couples from all games along with background stories to characters. Some stories may or may not be continued. Requests are welcome!
1. Dorian and Maxwell

"Andraste is too a virgin, how could she not be?"

"But how do you know? She did have a husband. She could have had dozens of children whom she kept as slaves."

"She's the bride of the Maker!"

Doesn't the Chantry say we are children of the Maker? I'm not positive, but I think there's only one way to make children."

Maxwell threw a book at Dorian, who dodged it effortlessly. He smirked as the Herald grabbed another one. It missed by a couple of feet, making Dorian burst into laughter. Fiona gave them a wide berth as they filled their hands with books. They could feel her glare as they carelessly tossed the ancient texts back in forth, paper flying everywhere. Mother Giselle purposely avoided meeting their eyes as she passed by. It was a normal thing by now. Everyone always looked at them with disdain. The Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste had fallen in love with the dashing Tevinter mage. Of course, most believed Dorian had used blood magic to brain wash him. The Inquisitor didn't take their opinions to heart. Mother Giselle had tried to persuade him to end the relationship on many occasions, but Maxwell couldn't stand being away from him. Dorian acted as if the criticism didn't faze him but even now, his eyes skirted to the priestess as she scurried away. Maxwell took the opportunity to throw the last book in his hand. It smacked Dorian right in the face and he fell backwards in a heap. The Herold rushed over, terrified that he had gone too far. Mother Giselle had stopped to stare as Maxwell fell to his knees on the floor. Dorian laid there, his hands covering his face.

"Dorian? I'm so sorry, are you hurt?"

He didn't move. Maxwell leaned closer and placed a hand on his face, caressing his cheek.

Just as the Inquisitor decided to get a healer, Dorian suddenly shot his hands up, grabbing Maxwell's arms. He kissed him with a surprising amount of force and then ran. Maxwell sat there in shock. He could here Dorian chuckling across the room. Mother Giselle let out a exasperated breath. Despite her ideals, she was still smiling as she walked away. She stopped only to pick up a rough book, it's pages ruffled. Maxwell grimaced sheepishly.

"These books are older than you are, dear. The Inquisition leans on their knowledge more than you may think."

"Don't worry Mother, we'll clean this up."

With a Lopsided grin, he dashed around her to look for Dorian. The musty smell of the library surrounded him. They had made a bigger mess than he thought. A few books had gone over the banister, falling down a story. He could see Solas looking agitated below, trying to recover the texts off the floor. Maxwell desired to find Dorian before anyone else pointed their glares at him. It took little time to find Dorian sitting in a plush chair, a book in his hand. The rest of them were strewn around him. He smirked devilishly.

"That was just cruel." Maxwell playfully scolded him. "You should be ashamed, giving me such a scare."

"All is fair in love and war." He waved the book like a fan in front of his face. Maxwell flopped onto the floor next to his chair. The books and papers didn't make the floor comfortable, but with Dorian around it was easy to ignore.

"I don't think a book fight counts as a war. Besides, you started it."

"Me? And just how did I cause this monstrosity of a mess?"

Dorian leaned forward and grabbed the book with Maxwell's head on it. His head hit the floor with a soft thump. Maxwell sat forward with annoyance, ready to confront Dorian, but his face was pressed into the book. He wrinkled his nose.

"To think, not one book about Tevinter. But at least twelve copies of the Chant of Light." He tossed the book back down with little care. Maxwell had to swerve out of the way as it flew past.

"It could be worse. What if it was another one of Varric's books?"

Dorian snorted. "If only you knew how many Hard In Hightown books I've found." He stretched and slid out of the chair with grace. Maxwell stood by his side. On impulse, he slid his hand into Dorian's. He looked down and smiled slightly. Maxwell gave him a goofy grin.

"You shouldn't let these things get to you, Dorian."

He didn't respond. Eventually he smiled again. Maxwell could still see the tension in his eyes but his usual swagger was back. They would have to talk about things sooner or later. But for now, Maxwell wanted to enjoy the peace. Dorian interrupted his thoughts without warning.

"So, I won the book fight, yes?"

"What? No way, you cheated."

"Cheated? I don't recall a rule against fainting, or kissing for that matter."

"It was still quite cruel."

"Oh, hush you."

Dorian planted a kiss on Maxwell and sauntered off. Maxwell sighed. It's hard to stay mad at him. Dorian has always had such undeniable charm. Maxwell's love diminished as soon as he turned around. His eyes rested on the large pile of books. Somehow Dorian had gotten away with not picking up a single one.


	2. Sera and Herah

Dear Kaaras,

Things are getting tense here. I've sent a few letters back home already. They seem impressed. It's not what I expected but it's good. The battles are rough but honorable. I met someone. You'd like her, full of energy and mischief. Might try and bring her back home. Keep the family in check while I'm gone. Don't get any stupid ideas.

Herah

Crumbs fell from above, littering the paper. Herah sighed, brushing them aside. She crumbled up the letter and tried again. About a third down the page, more crumbs tumbled from above.

"Sera."

She glanced up at Sera who was swinging precariously off a ceiling beam, a cookie in her hand. She took another bite, spilling more crumbs onto the parchment. Herah pushed them off again, annoyed.

"I'm busy Sera. Eat somewhere else."

Sera pouted her lips. "You're always busy. Besides, not like there's shite else to do in this crummy place."

She hopped off the beam, landing on the Inquisitor's desk. Sera tossed the cookie across the room and jumped into her lap. Herah sighed again but didn't fight her. It was hard saying no to her. It was always like this; Sera wants attention so she bothers Hera until she gives in. Not that Hera minded that much. Being Inquisitor was difficult and extremely stressful. Sera brought a world of fun into her strict and demanding life. They spent little time together, Herah was always too busy to play her games. Sometimes Sera would leave things be and find trouble somewhere else. But most days, she gets what she wants. Sera wrapped her arms around Herah's neck, giving her a mischievous smile. Today was one of those days.

"Come on, Tadwinks, let's have some fun."

"Tadwinks? What happened to Inky?"

Sera busted into a fit of giggles. "Its Buckles now."

Herah rolled her eyes and planted a kiss on Sera. When she leaned away, Sera began to pout again.

"Come on Lady Harold." Sera held on tighter so Herah couldn't pull away. "Your being a bigger Jackboot than Cullen."

The Inquisitor laughed, lifting Sera effortlessly in her arms. She abandoned the letter on her desk and walked to the balcony. The air was cold and crisp, leaving goosebumps on her skin. She sat Sera on the railing, her legs dangling over the edge. The stars casted an eerie glow across their features. Herah's grey skin looked pearly and her white hair shined in the light. Sera's golden strands fell across her face, her eye's a deep blue. She looked confused.

"This isn't what I meant by fun. I mean the stars are pretty yeah? But a bit boring." She twisted till her torso faced Herah. "What were you writing in there anyway? Wasn't nothing bad about me right?"

"It was to my Mercenary company."

"Your people back home, huh?"

Herah nodded.

Sera dragged her closer, a smirk tugging on her lips. "It's all good innit'? Your not gonna leave me here for your people back there?"

Herah smiled. "Worried I'm getting bored of you?"

Sera laughed. She pulled Herah in for a kiss. their mouths were gentle at first, their hands trailing down each other. Sera began to pull Herah forward and Herah forced her against her chest in return. They held on tighter as their kisses grew intense. Things were escalating quickly.

"Oh dear, had I known you two were getting friendly, I wouldn't have walked in."

Both Herah and Sera gasped and released each other. Sera nearly toppled over the edge before Herah caught her by the arm. They turned to see Dorian leaning against the door frame, looking amused.

"Don't mind me, just came do deliver some news."

Herah glared at him. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"I did," Dorian defended. "You were too busy swallowing each others faces to hear."

Sera jumped off of the railing and pushed Dorian back inside the Inquisitor's room. Despite his protests, she shut the the doors and clicked the lock. In one swift motion, she jumped onto Hera, her arms around her neck and legs wrapped around her waist. She tried giving Herah a kiss but she pulled away. Rolling her eyes, Herah pulled her off without difficulty. Sera grumbled but didn't protest.

Herah unlocked and opened the doors to see Dorian hadn't left. Instead, he lounged in her chair at her desk, reading the letter to her mercenaries. Sera mumbled a few words his way and stomped out of the room, slamming the door. Dorian shrugged his shoulders as if it had nothing to do with him.

"I'm probably going to pay for this later," he said unconcerned. "I've seen the pranks Sera has come up with." He stretched with his feet on the desk. The letter had been tossed back onto the desk. Herah also noticed a large pool of ink trailing its way down to the floor. It must have spilt from Sera jumping from the beam. Dorian was careful to keep his neat, white clothing away from the ink.

"If I find mud on my desk, so help me..."

Dorian snorted. "As if I'd let my shoes get caked in mud. Besides, there's already a catastrophic amount of ink on it."

Herah shook her head, and took a seat on her bed.

"Didn't you say you had news?"

"Hmm? Oh yes, your advisors wish to speak with you. Something about Empress Celene." He replied. Hera sighed. There was never a moment of peace. Her mind drifted to Sera, her uneven hair and devious smile. She could still remember the day they met in Val Royal. Sera was the one person who could steal the breaches of a guard. She was always full of life, and didn't cower from anyone or anything. Hera couldn't imagine her gone, and yet they've only known each other for months. She jumped when Dorian's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Planning on leaving for your friends already? I'm surprised, most people can't stand being away from me."

"I can't imagine why."

"Was that sarcasm? I can never tell with you Qunari."

Herah raised an eyebrow at Dorian. "Don't you have something better to do?"

"Alright, alright, I'm leaving." He hopped out of the chair, carefully avoiding the ink puddle. "You people need to loosen your corsets and relax."

He sauntered out of the room, leaving Herah in silence. Dorian pissed her off sometimes, but luckily, he knew when to back off. When it comes down to it, he's there for her.

She fell back onto her bed and shut her eyes. So much to do and so little time. She turned her head to see, in the corner of the room, a cookie. Herah smiled and fell asleep with Sera in her mind.

Sera sat down inside the tavern. The place smelled of sweat, beer, and shame. The bard was still trying to chat her up with her music. Creep. Everyone else was either drunk or passed out. No fun at all. Sera sat at an empty table near a group of scouts who were playing cards and throwing compliments to the waitress. She thought about going back to the palace, upstairs to Hera but Sera knew she would throw her out. Lady Herald needed her beauty sleep.

So instead, Sera looked for someone to have some fun with. Her attention came back to the scouts as they made a toast. She let out an involuntary giggle. Too easy. As the waitress made another round, Sera grabbed a jar of horse radish. When the waitress reached their table and grabbed their attention, she dumped a large portion of the jar into their cups. She ran as soon as they saw her, laughing the whole way.

Her room was a welcome site, everything else was so plain and boring. To strict and uptight. Her room was bright, creative. She flopped onto her bed, ready to sleep, but Cole's voice slipped through the wooden floor, keeping her eyes open. He was mumbling the words "Death and Destruction" over and over. The creepy little shite shouldn't even be here. Sera tried to get Hera to let her change rooms but she wouldn't listen. Every night, he would talk to himself, replaying the memories of the dead. Sera shivered. It was time for the little demon mutt to shut his hole. Sera's sleep was more important than the dead people's peace of mind. She barged into the kitchen, knocking down a servant. He was still on the floor when she walked out with a broom. When Sera reached her room, she could still hear Cole. Sera gripped the broom by the end and hit it against the ceiling.

"Hey, keep quiet! Stupid shiteing demon..."

Cole appeared in the doorway. Sera stumbled backwards, holding the broom as a weapon.

"Andraste's tits! Get away from me!"

Cole didn't move. "Quiet. Silence. It's all he heard. But he knew they were there, still watching-"

Sera threw the broom as hard as she could. Cole disappeared seconds before the broom would have hit him. She screamed in frustration. Stupid friggin' mutt.

Sera made her way back downstairs just in time to see the scouts coughing furiously. She forgot all about Cole while watching their reactions to their drinks. It was funny at first, their pudgy faces all red, until they pointed their blame at the surprised waitress. They yelled words like "Wench" and "Hag". The waitress cowered against the wall, holding a plate as a shield. Sera felt a bit of guilt for the poor girl. Hating herself for feeling emotions, she dashed down the steps, nearly tripping on the last step. Instead of going to the scouts, she headed towards the kitchen. The chef stopped, wide eye as she rushed through the door. Sera grabbed as many tomatoes as possible and ran, leaving the servants looking dumbfounded. She skidded to a halt just feet away from the scouts. They had surrounded the waitress, sneering down at her. The girl was nearly in tears.

"Hey, Arseholes!"

They turned towards Sera, eyeing the tomatoes in her hand. She threw one at the scout closest to her. It collided with his face, making a gross squishy noise that made Sera laugh. They abandoned the waitress, who slid down the wall, her face in her hands. Sera ran, throwing tomatoes as she went. About three of the scouts had been covered in guts and juice by the time she was done. The other two scouts had abandoned the chase halfway through. She had led them in circles around Skyhold before climbing through her bedroom window and out of sight. The waitress seemed to be back at work, refilling drinks. Cole's voice had simmered down to a few mumbles. Sera felt at ease. She fell asleep giggling to herself, wondering what Herah would have thought about her prank.


	3. Sera and Herah (Part 2)

"So, this is the magnificent Winter Palace? Hmm. I figured it would be bigger."

Herah quirked an eyebrow at Dorian who simply shrugged. The Winter Palace seemed more gaudy than beautiful. Every color imaginable was painted somewhere on the palace. Gold drapery surrounded the massive building, along with people of all sorts. Herah noted that the servants were all elven, their masks simple unlike the others. The guest wore giant dresses with jewels and lace, along with the same masks but with too much feathers and glitter. Sweet, melodic music drifted into the courtyard, but it was ruined by the abundant amount of talking. It's was as if they were in love with their own voices. They had arrived at the party just moments ago, standing out worse than a dragon surrounded by Nugs. Every head turned to see the Inquisition in person. Instead of seeing dashing heroes of Thedas, their eyes rested on an awkward Qunari, a slightly grimy and improper Elf, a grumpy Seeker, and a Tevinter mage with swagger. The guest looked as if they had been backhanded. Whispers hung in the air, some more crude than others. Herah could see the disgust in their eyes. A Qunari was to be their savior. How wonderful.

Sera seemed just as pissed. A permanent scowl clung to her face and she shot glares towards the crowd. Cassandra looked a bit out of place but didn't try to hide it. Dorian, on the other hand, smiled and waved as if Tevinter mages were normal to see. The outfits were hot and uncomfortable. When Leliana and Josephine came into her room with the red and gold costume in hand, Herah almost backed out. Unsurprisingly, they threatened to put her in a dress if she didn't cooperate.

So there they were, standing at the front gates with Gaspard, another reason why they drew so much attention. Hera had the urge to take Sera's hand for comfort but she knew better. The guest had enough reasons to gawk at her. Sera seemed to feel the same way. Her insults were just loud enough to be carried over the music.

"Stupid friggin nobles, big hat wearing sons of b-"

"Sera. Behave." Herah interrupted.

She grumbled but kept her insults inside her head. Dorian chuckled.

Herah studied the entrance. There were more doors surrounding the main entryway, hidden slightly in the shadows. She tried the first door, only to find it locked. The guest ignored her and continued their gossip. Herah looked to the nearest group. A tall, slender framed man with a hooked nose stood near a short, pudgy women with rings on every one of her fingers. Both of them were whispering furiously.

"How preposterous! Lady Menzella must catch on sooner or later."

"Indeed. It's not as if her husband is discreet with his nightly activities."

"I heard his head chef tried getting friendly with his daughter-"

"Umm. Excuse me I-"

The man with this hook nose shot Herah a seething glare.

"Do you mind? Hmph. The nerve of some people."

He pushed past her with force, his lady friend waddling behind. Herah blinked, trying to process what had happened. Dorian shook his head.

"It appears if we wish to hear the latest gossip, we'll have to be discreet."

They left the door alone and continued on. Herah and the others made their way across the gardens, avoiding any more confrontation with guest. Herah took a deep break before stepping up to the shinning doors. They opened with ease, revealing a softly lit chamber with slick floors. Velvet couches were set against the walls for comfort. The music grew louder, muffled by another door that most likely led directly to the ballroom.

Herah sighted her advisors across the room. Cullen looked weary, trying to avoid conversation. Leliana, on the other hand, had a small smile on her lips. Her eyes seemed to point at the floor, at the guest and their feet. Herah noticed Josephine when a young woman caught her in an embrace. The girl had the same Antivan looks as Josephine, but with a more rounded face and softer features. Herah found it humorous to see the differences between them. She eventually moved away to investigate the rest of the room.

She stopped when she heard a harsh whisper from behind her. She glanced at the two dwarfs with hoods. The concern was clear in their voices. Dorian gave her a nod and walked off to an inconspicuous area. Herah tried to follow his lead, leaning against the wall. Sera and Cassanda looked confused at first but eventually caught on and went their own ways. She angled herself just enough to hear without looking attentive.

"Do you really think Brialla would go that far? Besides, it's obvious Gaspard is close to cornering the Empress. Why risk revealing herself now?"

"Shh! Brialla has informants everywhere. You know the servants watch for her. You never know who is listening."

Herah tensed as their eyes skirted across the room. Surprisingly, they looked past her without any knowledge of her eavesdropping. She let out a gust of air and relaxed. No one told her that recon duty was part of the job. Dorian, Sera, and Cassandra met up with her seconds later.

Dorian faked a look of shock. "The Elven maiden is up to no good? Impossible! The citizens of Orlais are never treacherous."

Cassandra glared." I'm sure the same goes for the magisters of Tevinter."

"We need to focus." Herah sighed. "We don't have very many leads. Brialla's spies are worth investigating, If we don't figure out who is working with Corypheus, then we lose Orlais."

Cassandra shook her head. "The assassination attempt isn't the only threat. The court's approval is just as important and twice the challenge."

Herah sighed again, putting a hand to her forehead. Nothing was ever easy. She though of Karaas and the rest of her family. It was always easy then. The goal was always clear; kill and don't get killed. Now, everything was a mess with no clear solution. She had the urge to grab onto Sera again but Herah stepped back just in time. She took a few steps back to resist the feeling. Sera noticed but didn't ask. She cleared her throat to address the team.

"We all know what to do right?"

They nodded with grim faces.

Herah sucked in a breath. "Well. Let's get started."

Sera pushed past the bustling servants who regarded her with the same attitude. After making quite the scene in the Ballroom, Herah sent her off on her own to snoop around. She tried not to think about the danger. Not that Herah couldn't take care of herself, But Sera knew how cold nobles could be.

"If they even tried to hurt Herah, then I'll bite their shins" she whispered to herself with a smile. She walked with a bit more enthusiasm. A group of people sidestepped out of her way with annoyance. Sera heard them whispering as she turned away.

"To think they let scum like that walk in these halls."

Sera hissed a string of curse words through her teeth as she skidded around the corner. She passed by another group of people who stood in a close knit circled. Their eyes met hers for a brief second, then they turned and giggled. Sera glared and walked faster. It wasn't the first time that she was treated as trash. Orlesians weren't used to elves drinking with them instead of serving the drinks. She thought back to when Herah was at her side. Each time a guest would sneer at her or wrinkle their nose in disgust, Herah would glance at Sera with an air of unease, then look away. As if it pained her to be seen in public. Herah had never done something by like that before. She didn't shy away when people from the Inquisition asked about their so called "love". And it wasn't just the looks either. Herah had been keeping her distance from Sera, more than necessary. More people strolled by, staring unashamed, whispering just like everyone else.

"You shouldn't complain about your wife, Ser Menzella. You could of had a woman that looks like that." They laughed as the man pointed to Sera who growled. They only laughed harder as she bared her teeth.

She kept going until their voices faded into the distance. She though about all the hatred she had received from everyone. Then her mind focused back on Herah and her strange behavior.

Sera stopped dead in her tracks. Her throat constricted as she tried to connect the dots.

Herah is embarrassed by her.

Her heart felt wounded as she gasped for air. Could Herah really feel insulted to be with an elf? Sera never had an issue with racism before. The Red Jenny didn't care about race, and she always wandered alone. Not to mention that Sera didn't think of herself as an elf. It never crossed her mind that Herah would feel uncomfortable with their relationship. It never seemed to matter at Haven or at Skyhold or anywhere. So why did it matter now?

She glanced back at the all of the people moving around her. They kept switching subjects to find something more exciting. Sera waited for them to start talking about her and Herah. Did they even know about their relationship?

She shook her head. Sera never complained about being seen with a Qunari so why should Herah? She sighed. Sera never cared about what other people thought, but Herah changed that. When she'd come around, Sera felt the need to be next to her. Which wasn't like Sera at all. Sera was independent, she never needed anyone but herself. Now, all she can do is think about Herah.

Love friggin sucks worse than The Breech.

Sera let out a frustrated snarl and kicked the nearest wall. She hated herself for falling in love. She continued to kick the wall until she was sure her foot was broken. Unfortunately she didn't think about the fact that she had to walk for the rest of the night. Her steady pace slowed until she was practically shuffling from the pain. Even so, she continued to drag herself down the hallway without care. She came to a halt when two voices cut through her thoughts. She stumbled and fell against a marble statue as soon as a pair of elven servants made their way into the room.

"Well? Who did it?"

"Don't know. Whoever killed those Tevinter assassins, they've vanished."

"Hmph. Just you wait, somehow we'll get blamed for letting those beasts get into the Royal Mansion. I just know it.

They shared a few more words before dispersing. Sera waited, her breath stilled. She didn't move for what seemed like hours. Finally, she stood.

Herah needs this information. Surely she could make some use of it, even if the assassins are already gone. Herah needs this info if she wants to get out of here. Even if she doesn't deserve it. But Sera would deal with that later.

And with that in mind, Sera ran.


	4. Solona and Cullen (Origin Story)

"This is ridiculous!"  
Jowan groaned obnoxiously as he stared down the parchment in front of him. His tangle of black hair was sprayed across his face, making him look much older than he was. He held his head in his hands, bearing down on his work. Solona watched him wearily, cautious of her friend's temperamental mood.  
Paper littered their table, droplets of ink slowly shedding off the pages. Books of all oddities were stacked precariously beside them, most of them worn and faded with age. In all, their usual spot in the Circle library was a disaster. And Jowan wasn't making things better. He dropped his forehead onto the table, creating an incredibly loud smack around the room. No one looked up to stare, knowing exactly who had caused it. He had been around long enough to be recognizable by others. It wasn't uncommon for him to be found complaining about something or other. This was just one of his usual meltdowns.  
And Solona was unfortunate enough to hear it all. As his best (and possibly only) friend, it was her royal duty to nod her head as Jowan revealed all his complaints to the world. She sat across from him, a book laid in front of her. Her own work had been finished days ago (Jowan had pleaded to copy her writing) and was tucked beneath her bed. She had come to the library to read, like most people would. But Jowan had followed her in, spewing complaints. All she could do was bare with it and hope he left soon.  
"What is the First Enchanter thinking?" He huffed. "I can't write two essays in one week! I haven't even finished Enchanter Sweeny's assignment."  
He pushed a paper towards her, clearly the project Sweeny assigned. Solona had to strain to read the letters; Jowan's handwriting was atrocious. Not that it mattered, the words themselves made very little sense at all. It wasn't hard to see why he was stressed. He didn't exactly shine with intelligence.  
Solona shook her thoughts away. It was a rude thing to think about a friend, and she didn't like to make a habit of insulting others. Sighing, she pushed a piece of auburn hair out of her face and pulled Jowan's paper towards her.  
 _Poor Jowan... I'm sure things will get better some day._  
She did her best to read his work, trying hard to hide her expression from him. The paper really _was_ bad.  
"It's alright, it just needs a little work is all." Her voice was quiet. Even if they weren't sitting in a library, it wouldn't become much louder. She didn't like drawing attention. It was pretty clear that Solona was shy, always careful not to stand out. Being noticed made her feel self conscious and paranoid. She had always been subtle person.  
But Jowan was not.  
"It is NOT alright! There is no way i'll be able to pass the criteria and then i'll never become a mage and i'll be stuck as an apprentice forever and-"  
"Jowan please stop shouting, people are trying to study."  
He sighed, looking defeated. Dark shadows were painted beneath his eyes. Solona had seen them the other day too, it was clear he hadn't been sleeping. Some of the other apprentices seemed to think they saw him here in the library, nose buried in a book. Very strange for Jowan.  
"Is everything okay? I haven't seen you sleep in a long time..."  
"What? N-no," he stuttered. "Everything's fine. I've just been doing some extra studying at night. Of course everything's okay."  
Solona stared, but didn't reply. It wasn't hard to see through him.  
 _What are you hiding from me Jowan?_  
But no matter how curious she was, she let him have the benefit of the doubt and dropped the subject. The air had become thick with tension, and it had become pretty clear that the conversation was done.  
Jowan completely stopped talking, looking past Solona with exhaustion. He let his face fall back onto the table again, creating the same awful sound as before. She sighed, resting her head in her hands. Their moods were incredibly parallel to one another. Frustrated and annoyed. And chances were that the cloud of darkness hanging over them wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Life in the Circle was always dull like this, nothing but work to do and little time to do it. Solona was never the type of mage to openly scold the Chantry. She knew the magic in her blood was pure power, and with power came danger. The Circle was where she belonged, for the safety of others and her own. But sometimes, her life felt tedious. Colorless. Nothing to do with herself but read and study. Sometimes, she really did wish to go farther than the walls allowed her to. Out there, she could do so much more. Maybe then her days wouldn't so... _lifeless_.  
 _No. You shouldn't think like that. Don't cling to meaningless thoughts of freedom and happiness. It's better to face the truth. The Circle of Magi will always be your home. Always._  
"Solona?"  
She blinked, lifting her head to see a dark haired mage standing in front of her. It took her a moment to realize it was Niall. He was older than her, about Jowan's age. But his silent personality fit Solona more. Even so, it wasn't common for him to seek her out.  
She smiled politely, as Niall eyed Jowan wearily. He didn't bother looking up at their guest.  
"I apologize if this is a bad time..."  
 _When is it not?_  
"Of course not, did you need something?"  
He turned his attention back to her, looking oddly disturbed. "I have orders from the FIrst Enchanter to inform all of the apprentices and mages to report to main floor. It's... something about the Templars."  
This time, Jowan lifed himself off the table, looking at Niall as if he'd brought the worst news possible. And for once, Solona agreed.  
 _Templars._ The soldiers of the Chantry in charge of holding the mages' leash. It was never good when the Templars and Mages had to converse with one another. Prisoners don't usually talk openly to the guards. As a mage, you're expected to hate the Templars and _vice versa_. But Solona never particularly hated them. She had no personal quarrel with them, but as a mage, they would always be enemies. And when your job was to keep captives locked away from the world, you didn't earn much sympathy.  
Jowan shook his head over and over again. "Did Irving say why? They aren't searching our rooms again are they?"  
Again, Solona glanced at him, curious.  
 _Secret study sessions, hidden objects in your room, What is going on with you? And why would you hide it from me?_  
Niall shrugged sheepishly. "He didn't say, but he didn't look too happy." He mumbled. "I need to inform the rest of the mages." He nodded awkwardly at two of them. "See you around I guess."  
Solona and Jowan turned to one another, both looking skeptical and ready to bail on the meeting. After cleaning their mess (Particularly Jowan's) they made their way to the main floor. Many of the other mages had already arrived, standing awkwardly in the open area. They murmured to one another in confusion. This was far from normal procedure. Templars were stationed on the walls, as still as stone. _That_ on the other hand was normal. They're was no way of telling how they felt. The helmets covered any and all emotions. Irving and Greagoir stood stiffly beside each other, facing the crowd. And behind them, was the door.  
 _A door._ Just a few inches of wood was all that kept her confined. To think there was an entire new world just inches away, and she would never be able to see it. The fate of a mage.  
"Quiet down now and listen."  
Greagoir's voice echoed in the room, silencing every mage at once. His cold gaze swept across each of them, _analyzing_ them. It was the stare of a Templar, searching for the slightest hint of corruption. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.  
"There have been reports about some very _strange_ activities going on..."  
"Yes, we do _VERY_ strange things in our freetime!"  
A group of mages snickered.  
Greagoir didn't bat an eye. "I said quiet, this is a serious matter."  
The laughter died down.  
"Now," he continued. "More and more reports have come in about mages who have developed a new way to spend their time, particularly in the Forbidden side of the library. The books that reside there are also forbidden, due to the information stored inside. On Blood Magic."  
Gasps erupted from the room, but Greagoir continued. "You have all been warned to stay away, and yet we continue receiving reports of an apprentice who has ignored our warnings. This cannot be aloud. We have already issued orders about this behavior. I will not stand for this corruption to spread. Too many times have these acts led to destruction. This disobedience _will_ stop. Today."  
Whispers filled the room. Irving simply stared downwards, not willing to scold his apprentices. Solona couldn't blame him. She peaked at Jowan from the corner of her eye. He was pale, a dab of sweat on his brow. She quietly took one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was cold and clammy.  
 _Whatever's going on, Jowan, I'm here for you._  
Greagoir stepped aside, and Irving slowly stepped in front of him to address his pupils. They all stared with apprehension, waiting to be given their punishment. Jowan squeezed Solona's hand back.  
"The Chantry has decided that the mages have become too rebellious... and have given us a new commandment." He paused, letting the news sink in.  
"From this point on, all mages will be _individually_ monitored by a Templar from dawn till dusk. No excuses."  
Silence. No one uttered a word, just stared in horror and rage at the Templars beside them. They were both horrified and appalled. What little privacy they had would now dissipate. Every move, every word, every _breath_ would be monitored. And Templars weren't known for being merciful towards their captives. They would control every move the mages made, and if they refused to comply, then a false report would be placed on their heads. Life would become pure, undeniable misery. It was a disconcerting thought, one that turned Solona's blood cold.  
She flinched suddenly, A sharp pain shooting through her hand. Jowan was holding on too tight. She lightly tugged away from him.  
"Jowan..."  
He blinked, confused. Seeing his hand crushing hers, he quickly let go.  
"Sorry..."  
"Nervous?" It was an obvious question. He looked as if he were about to hurl. But instead, he shrugged, refusing to make eye contact.  
As soon as the new demands were made, the Templars guided the mages into a circle, herding them like cattle. The mages, who would usually become spiteful, were too shocked to do anything else but obey. In the little space they had, the formed a large and incredibly disfigured line. Irving and Greagoir stood at the front, staring back at the angry and terrified faces. Solona stood in the back, peering over the heads of others to see. Jowan trailed behind her, still lost in thought. She did her best to see above the other mages, cursing her short stature in the process.  
"Anders and Rylock."  
As Greagoir called out the names, two people stepped forward. Solona recognized them both as a Templar and a mage. The Templar, an older woman with a stern face, glared with disgust at her new charge. The Mage, a young blonde with a quirky smile, was smirking back at her. Irving spoke a few words to them both, then released them through the door.  
Jowan nudged her impatiently. "What are they doing?"  
"It looks like they are pairing us with a Templar, the one that's keeping watch over us." She replied, just as another group of names was called out.  
He whimpered in response, sliding back behind her.  
The longer they waited, the smaller the circle of mages became. And every mage that left forced them closer and closer to the Templars. Pushing them into the arms of their captives, the only thing that held them back. Like chains to a prison wall.  
"Jowan and Irminric."  
Jowan stiffened, his face frozen in fear. Solona didn't know if he was actually responsible for those what had happened, but his reaction said enough. He'd done something wrong, she just didn't know how severe it was.  
She gently coaxed him forward as Irving and Greagoir watched them from afar. The Templar who stood beside them was much older than expected. He had dark, reddish hair with a matching beard that covered his gentle features. He looked to be about late thirties, with the eyes of someone with experience. He didn't glare at Jowan, nor did he smile maliciously. Instead, he simply nodded his head curtly. Jowan didn't seem to know how to respond. With one last glance at Solona, he left, the Templar right behind him. Solona watched them go, feeling as if it was the last she'd ever see of him.  
"Solona, my dear."  
She snapped her head away from the door, looking back towards Irving. The other mages used to joke about how ancient we was, but Solona could see the wisdom and truth behind his age. He was more than just a dying man, he was kind, gentle, understanding, and he was the closest thing she could ever consider a father. He smiled sadly, seeing her defeated expression.  
"There's no need to fret. Jowan will still be there once you finish. You will still be able to accomplish your daily routine, just with the Templars watching a little closer than usual."  
 _No, we won't. The Templars will never let us live peacefully. We'll be used as slaves, forced to do whatever they desire of us._  
"First Enchanter..." She paused, "Are we not scrutinized enough? What more do they wish to see?"  
Irving shook his head, like a father scolding a child. "Those are not the questions you should be asking. Rather what can we do to show them that they don't _need_ to see? We must show that the mages are responsible enough to behave in the circle's and away from the Chantry's eyes."  
Greagoir intervened. "Magic shall _always_ be under the Chantry's gaze, for it will always be under the Templar's."  
Irving glared for a moment, then moved on. "This unfortunate event has made things... difficult for mages, but we will continue fighting as we always have." His words were deep, cutting the conversation to an end. "Come, we've wasted enough time. Let us find you your Templar."  
He motioned for her to turn, just as Greagoir walked away. She watched as he approached another Templar, extending his arm towards Solona and Irving. As soon as the man looked in her direction, she put her head down on impulse. Even after their footsteps drew near, she refused to look up.  
 _Dear Maker, please let him be merciful. Please.  
"Solona... and Cullen."_  
Finally, she lifted her chin. And instantly met the eyes of the Templar.  
He blinked, as if he wasn't sure how to react to her presence. He had to be about the same age, perhaps older. Tall and lean, with a boyish face and light blonde hair swept back from his face. Even with his timid expression, he was incredibly striking.  
Neither one of them could move, staring awkwardly at one another. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came and he instantly shut it again. She couldn't seem to look away either, just as dumbstruck. It was a ridiculous thing to do, like staring into the eyes of a beast. This was your enemy, your _demise,_ and yet you can't seem to look away, captivated. A mage with an unreasonable fixation with a Templar. Pitiful  
It wasn't until Greagoir cleared his throat that they broke their gaze. Cullen coughed self consciously while Solona put her head back down, blushing.  
 _Idiot. What are you blushing for? It's his job to stare at you._  
Irving, who acted oblivious to the entire affair, spoke in his usual calming voice. "My my, it seems the moon is already upon us. Its time for my old bones to rest for the day. You may now join your friends once again, my dear. Please make wise choices and continue your studying."  
"And stay away from the forbidden side of the library." Greagoir warned.  
"Yes, of course. I... Thank you."  
And just like that, they withdrew, leaving Cullen alone with his new charge. His eyes wavered on her with hesitation. Solona took the chance while she could, and bolted out of the room. She heard the man let out a surprised exclamation as he did his best to keep up with her pace. She contemplated slowing down, but the thought having a conversion was nerve-racking. The perks of being anti-social. She didn't wait to see if he had followed her through the door, just rushed through, her eyes darting around the halls in search of Jowan. The path she took was stretched all across the Circle, nearly impossible to follow. It was unlikely that he'd continue searching for her.  
By the time she made it back to her quarters, the day had become completely replaced by night. Jowan, along with a few other mages, were sprawled across the room, talking aimlessly. As soon as he spotted Solona, he jumped off of his bed and rushed forward.  
"Its about time, where have you been? We thought your Templar had done something to you!"  
The thought of the blonde haired soldier doing something cruel was laughable. Solona couldn't see him as the type to hurt others without reason.  
"I spoke with the First Enchanter for a bit, the Templar isn't to blame. He hasn't done anything yet."  
Jowan narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "Not _yet._ But he will, just like the rest of them. They'll make life more miserable than it is now."  
Two other mages nodded in agreement. One of them she recognized as Anders, who smiled cheerfully without a care in the world. The other was a stranger, though barely. Solona had often seen the blonde haired woman gossiping among the other apprentices. They both seemed to approve of Jowan's anti-Templar attitude, as did many in the Circle. But not Solona. She couldn't seem to put judgement on the man from moments ago.  
"It's late," she replied. "I should be retiring now."  
Jowan nodded. "Better get some sleep while we can without anyone staring us down. I'll wake you in the morning, just in case the Templars decide to take their job too seriously and actually come into our quarters."  
They all climbed into their beds, letting the stress of the day dissipate in their dreams. Where the demons run amok and sifted through their thoughts. Solona didn't rest her eyes with the others. She stared vacantly at the ceiling, still caught on the image of the man's face. He was just a Templar, nothing more. And yet, he caught her attention like no one else could. To think this one soldier could change so much. She didn't understand how he could control her like he did. But even so, she didn't pull away from the feeling. It was a welcome change, no matter how odd or foreign. She _embraced_ it. Because for once in her small, meaningless life, she felt _alive._


	5. Ellana and Solas

p style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Green. The flame was em style="line-height: 2em; color: inherit !important; font-family: inherit !important; font-size: inherit !important; clear: none !important;"green/em./p  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana stared in fascination as it wavered gently. She could feel Solas watching her. /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""Its Veil Fire. A memory of a flame that once burned."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"They stood beside each other, deep inside of a diminishung structure, one that Ellana assumed to be elven ruins. With a bit of time left to kill, Solas had taken her here, in attempt to show her other means of elven magic. And as she continued gazing into the torch of veil fire, she understood his intentions./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Even as an elven mage, she knew nothing of its origin. But Solas did, as usual. He knew of things that Ellana's keeper didn't even know, and that fascinated her./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""What is it used for?"/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Solas waved his hand across the flames, extinguishing it without the slightest touch. Ellana blinked in the darkness of the ruins. She could see nothing. /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""It lights the way." He said, his voice echoing of the stone walls. "And because its ignited with magic..."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"The green fire returned instantly. /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""A dying flame is never a worry."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana put her hand near the flame, feeling the warmth. "Thats incredible, how do you know so much?"/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Solas smiled, pride in his eyes. Earning praise for his knowledge always seemed to lighten his mood. With a graceful gesture, he grabbed the torch off the wall. He motioned for Ellana to follow. She bit her questions down and obeyed./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"They continued their descent farther, the stone and rock becoming more and more disfigured. Finally, Solas came to a halt. Ellana moved beside him and followed his eyes, where a large and mystic mural laid on the wall./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Carvings of all sort were embedded into the surface, some beautiful and some monstrous. But all of them were unknown to Ellana. /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""The ancient elves had many means of magic, most lost in time." He pointed a faded image on the wall. The outline of what appeared to be people was still visible. Ellana leaned closer, identifying pointy ears on each of them./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"She brushed her fingertips along the carvings. "But those people are gone, they have been for centuries."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""No. No one is ever truly gone."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana glanced up at Solas, but he wasnt focused on her. His eyes were froze in place, staring upwards. She couldn't comprehend what it was, but the euphoria that clouded him was real. He was gazing into something far away, something not of this world./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Finally, Ellana cut though the silence. "What do you mean?"/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""The Fade. Spirits." Solas, eyes wide with fascination, finally looked back at her. He took a step closer, pointing to another carving. /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana couldn't make out the objects. They were carved in an isolated area from everything else in the mural, and the rock around them was nearly black. She could only assume it was ment to show power. She moved her hand to place it on the dark stone./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" "While our bodies fade, our spirits live on in the Fade. Along with our memories." Solas replied, his eyes following where Ellana's hand rested. Gently, he put his hand over hers. "They've passed thier knowledge to me, and now," he said softly, "I'm passing my knowledge to you."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana lowed her eyes to their hands, his almost completely covering hers. Before she could register a response, Solas pulled away. His expression was unreadable./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"They stood in silence for awhile. Elanna didn't question his behavior, just accepted it for what it was. She had learned early on that the closer she became, the farther Solas pushed her away. There were moments like these, where the imaginary walls surrounding him came down. But they never stayed down for long, and Ellana had learned to accept that too./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""The Keeper used to tell me stories about spirits." she said softly, continuing to stroke the mural. "About spirits that couldn't be distinguished from demons. The clan teaches us to be wary of immortals, because they can't be trusted."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"For the first time that day, Solas looked down at her with an expression of unpleasantness. Ellana blinked up at him, shocked by the change. He didn't seem angry or upset but... disappointed. He snapped his head away, clearly having a different opinion than her clan. "And you believe everything your Keeper speaks? Not a wise action to take."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""I believe everything you just spoke." She pointed out./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Solas hesitated for only a moment. "An excellent point. Still unwise of you."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana's hand stopped stroking the wall. She glanced up at Solas, confused. "Are you saying you lied?"/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""No, but I could have."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""I trust you."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Solas shook his head and turned away. His face was full of anguish, something so unlike him that Ellana turned away from the wall and placed a hand on his shoulder. He instantly flinched and moved away./div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;""But you shouldn't. You shouldn't trust anyone. Especially me."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"Ellana blinked. "Whats going on Solas? This isn't like you."/div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;" /div  
div style="line-height: 30px; color: #333333; font-family: -apple-system, '.SFNSText-Regular', 'Segoe UI', Roboto, 'Lucida Grande', Tahoma, Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; clear: none !important; background-color: #fefefe;"But Solas was done talking. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Ellana alone in the darkness./div 


	6. MHawke and Fenris

"Fenris."

"No."

"Fenriiiiiiiiiis."

"I said no."

"Fenriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis"

"Enough Hawke."

Fenris glared with subtle harshness as the mage smiled innocently at him. They stood across from each other in his "acquired" mansion, as Hawke repeatedly called his name in mischief, trying to get a rise out of the usually hot-tempered elf. Fenris simply scowled back, not willing to put up with his games. It only made Hawke's smile even wider. His black hair was ruffled and fell against his forehead naturally. His usual red stain across his face was gone, along with his father's armor which he dearly cherished. Instead, he wore a simple button up shirt and black trousers, complete with a lack of shoes. It seemed that he intended to stay there for awhile.

His deep, dark eyes scanned the elf's face for any signs of weakness, as if debating whether or not to press on with his antics. Apparently he had found his sign, because he opened his mouth again.

"C'mon, just talk to me."

"Hrmph."

"Fenriiiiis."

'Alright," He growled. "What is it you want?"

Hawke grinned in triumph. "I just wanted to say hi."

"...I hate you."

Hawke chuckled, pressing his body to the door frame as Fenris walked out of the room. He could hear soft, muffled footsteps following him as he made his way to the storage of wine in the mansion. After he snatched a bottle at random, he turned to the mage, glaring.

'You've said what you needed, now you can go."

"Oh c'mon don't kick me out yet! I just got here!" He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted. "Just let me stay and talk with you for awhile."

Fenris eyed him suspiciously. No way in hell had he simply come over to talk. But his true intentions didn't show on his face. It was always like this with Hawke. It was a game in where you could never tell if he was bluffing. But in this case, his intentions seemed sincere. So Fenris gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"You can stay for now." He mumbled. "But only because the sun has already set, and you aren't wearing shoes."

Hawke grinned, wiggling his toes. In one swift motion, he plucked the bottle out of his hand and bounced into a chair at the table. He smirked as Fenris sighed, grabbing another one for reimbursement. Together, they drank, oddly at ease with one another. It seemed absurd, but Fenris was almost enjoying himself.

Finally, Hawke broke the silence. "I hope you have room for two, because its way past midnight now, and I am way too drunk to walk."

He snorted. "I assumed this would happened. I guess you'll be sleeping on the floor tonight."

"What? No way, you have a perfectly comfortable bed in the next room over.

"No, Hawke."

"Who said I was asking for permission?"

He continued to call his name like before, and Fenris felt a headache taking form. After minutes of continues name yelling, he finally lost it. He slammed his now empty bottle onto the table.

"Why do you continue to pester me? Is there really nothing you have better to do?" He glared at Hawke's confused face. "Do not play dumb with me, _mage._ You come here to torment me every day, for no better reason than your own amusement."

Hawke's mouth fell open in shock. It was clear that he hadn't expected the words to come out of his mouth, and they had stung. Fenris wasn't trying to hurt him, but his antics had struck a nerve within him. He felt _taunted_ by his presence. And he wanted it to stop. After what seemed to be forever, Hawke spoke up.

"Is _that_ why you think I'm here? To _harass you?"_

Fenris stared, waiting for an explanation. It had to be why he came over so often. But Hawke only shook his head. "I don't spend all my time here with you just for a few laughs, you _ass._ I happen to enjoy your company."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. I like spending time with you."

He blinked. "What?"

"Oh dear Maker you can be so dense sometimes." He leaned over the table, knocking the bottles to the floor. "I. LIKE. YOU. There, do you understand me now? I'm not here to _pester_ you."

Silence. Neither of them spoke, just stared at each other pointedly. Hawke rolled his eyes, sinking back into his chair, huffing like a child. Fenris couldn't come up with a response, feeling less vindicated than before. He instantly regretted his words. Like usual, he was quick to assume, and had insulted a friend in the process. He really was an ass. In truth, he didn't mind the mage's constant presence. It was almost comforting.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I suppose... It's only right to offer comfort to a guest"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"It's rude to have someone sleep on the floor."

Hawke's eyes widened. "Wait, does this mean..."

"Yes Hawke. You can sleep in the bed."


	7. Momma

Momma yelled at me again today. I went into the meadow again. It's soft there. Quiet. The Baron's soldiers walk along the path, but I head into the field. It's like heaven, as Papa often said. I like to pick the Daffodils out of the grass. They look pretty like Momma, so I pluck them and take them home. But she wasn't happy. She says I'm not allowed by the road and to stay inside.

I stay inside like Momma says. I'm bored, but I don't want to make her upset, so I sit and sigh as she cleans. She feels bad for yelling, so we play together. She tells me all kinds of things. Her voice gets low as she starts to talk about the knights in red.

"The Templars are bad, Dear. You stay away from them, no matter what they say. Never trust a knight in red."

Momma doesn't like them. She looks angry, so I don't question. Instead, we cook supper. She cuts vegetables for stew, and I carry them to the pot above the coals.

Its hard to light the fire, but Momma doesn't need to. Her fingers move, and then flames dance onto the coals. I've seen it many times, but I still stare in wonder as she does it. I want to know how, but Momma says its a special gift, and that it's our little secret. Even from Papa.

When I ask why, Momma gets a sad look on her face. She says that other people don't understand her gift. They get scared. I watch her flick more fire from her fingertips. It swirls and settles under the pot. I look at Momma again. I tell her that her gift is pretty. She smiles.

Papa works with the Baron's soldiers. He's gone alot, but he I think he knows about Momma's gift. It makes him angry. Sometimes Papa gets loud; Momma screams back. I cover my ears to escape the noise, but its too loud. So I run away into the meadow. I play with the daffodils until Papa leaves again. When I come back, Momma is very upset.

She starts to hide in her room more, and her breath starts to smell funny. It smells the same as a bottle of ale. I don't get to see her much anymore. Papa never comes back home. I go back to play at the meadow again; Momma is too upset to notice.

I want to play in the pretty field, but I can't. The Baron's soldiers have passed by. They leave deep footprints, and they crushed all the daffodils. I start to cry. I'm angry and upset and can't keep my fists from shaking. I clinch my hands, and sparks shoot out. Soon there is a small flame on my fingertips. My anger leaves, I get excited and run to tell Momma.

I show her the sparks and smile. Because I have a gift like Momma too. I thought she would be happy. But Momma starts to cry. I don't see her for the rest of the day.

Papa comes home. He looks less angry, but he still stares at us with hate. Momma stands her ground, and I stand behind her.

Behind Papa, is the knights in red. Templars. Momma's eyes get wide, then she falls down. I grab her arm and try to hold her up, but Papa has already pushed me to the red knights. One of them look at me with sad eyes. He has muddy brown hair and a fuzzy beared. I can only gawk back as he stares. I kick and scream as they drag me from our home, through the meadow and to the road. I claw at the ground, tearing down the daffodills as I try to break free. Momma screams from far away. I don't see her anymore.

It's been twelve years since. I sit in a familar wooden chair, daydreaming of anyplace other than the tower. I yearn to see Daffodills again. I pray to see my mother, even though I know she's dead. I dream of finding my father again. To put him through the same pain and suffering as us.

Mother's words still whisper in my head. "Never trust a knight in red." I stare beside me to the same Templar from so long ago. His muddy hair and beared is withered in grey, but he still stares with the same sympathetic gaze. I glare back. Mother was right. Templars are bad.

I gently slip my hands from beneath my robes. Fire slowly builds on my fingertips. Just like all those years before. I'm read to go home, my little field of Daffodills and sweet silence. I'm ready to see Momma again.


	8. Samson's Tale

**_Inspired by the song Samson's Tale_**

"You're a kind man. Thank you. Thank you so so much."

Delicate blue eyes brimmed with tears gazed at him, the young mage shaking on her wavering knees. The elf looked so young, so innocent, not a day over fifteen. More pure than anything that the Chantry could ever conceive of. This girl was anything but an abomination.

Samson smiled sweetly, giving the mage a slight pat on the shoulder, leaving her be with her emotions. He crept away from the abandoned store room in Kirkwall's tower, pocketing the letter that the mage had desperately plunged into his hands. A small scroll with clean but hurried script, addressed to the young elf's lover. A girl outside the circle. Lovers that magic had scorned.

He gave it a gentle pat from inside the clasp of his armor, drawing back to his position on guard. He'd deliver the letter later, once he had drawn suspicion away from himself. For a Templar to commit such acts, he'd earn the wraith of the Chantry, and the disdain of the Maker. And yet, he could not mask his sympathy for the mockingbirds locked in cages.

He would not stand by as the mages suffered. Even if he could do little else other than deliver words of hope through letters. He'd protect the mages, that much he promised.

He felt a slight pull at his mind, a soft murmur of need. Samson shook his mind clear, facing forward with determination. The desire for Lyrium was growing stronger. The color blue staining his mind. He found it hard to remain still.

"Knight Samson? A letter."

Someone had caught on.

Turning on his heels, he eyed the man wearily, meeting the gaze of a youthful face. Blonde locks swept back, and a sorrowful gaze approached him. The boy stared back with sullen features. Samson held his guard. How long had he beem watching. How much did he know.

"This letter arrived for you," he presented the thick paper with the ruby red seal on top, "from Knight Captain Meredith."  
A slight shutter ran through his body, taking the letter with tense hands, keeping his head down. He hadn't seen Samson with tge mage, but someone had. The man's eyes were alight with curiosity, but also unease, as if he wanted no part in the trouble that Samson might hold. He turned away with nothing more than a hesitant side glance, leaving Samson alone to read the Knight Captain's demands. Sweat forming on his brow, he tore at the letter.

 _Knight Samson,  
It has come to the attention of the Chantry as well as the Templar Order's command that rumors have spread with your name. These rumors include claims in which you have defied the Order's teachings, and committed acts of treachery that cannot be ignored. These crimes include:  
Theft of Lyrium  
Aiding in the escape of Mages  
Unauthorized association with Mages  
Perjury, to lie while under oath  
Blasphemy against the will of The Maker  
Assault against the Chantry and it's community  
These charges are extreme, and with evidence pointing towards these rumors being true, your title as Knight shall be stripped, as well as any affiliation with the Chantry and Templar Order. Your armor and weapons (As well as any remaining Lyrium in your possession) will be removed.  
May the Maker grant you mercy, for you shall find none here.  
Knight Captain Meredeth_

He was done for. They knew enough.

The letter rippled as his hands engulfed it with trembling fury. The resulting ball of scripture was tossed aside, and with a shaky breath, Samson tracked his way back to the barracks, taking his last steps as a Templar. His hopes and desires coming to rest.

He had always tried to be an honorable man. He helped the mages out of sympathy, not out of scorn for the Chantry's word or the Order's demands. Samson held no regret for his decisions. Only that he had failed to honor his code, and failed to save other innocents in the path. A pitiful excuse of a Templar.

Samson's body tensed, before falling to his knees with a ragged breath. The need for blue was back. The need for Lyrium.

He scuffed his way towards the wall, leaning precariously against it. Each breath gave in to pain, his head aching in agony.  
He'd never survive it. He couldn't live without Lyrium.

Finally finding the strength to stand, he used the wall to guide him back to his corridors, shuffling out of his armor and collapsing into a chair, his blade hitting the ground. He had become a waste of effort. Perhaps death was preferable. His eyes rested on the sword beneath his feet. Contemplating.

But his eyes caught the glare of something else. A glow of red through the reflection of his blade. Turning, he studied the small vial that rested on the table behind him. Like crystallized blood. He felt it sing to him. Attached to the cork, was a small letter.

 _Red Lyrium. When you need more, come find me._

Red Lyrium.

He wanted it.

But he didn't need it.

Samson pocketed the vial. He was a lost man, but not desperate enough to attempt the new drug. He'd move on from the Templars, start over. Forget the voice. Forget the desire. He didn't need such a temptation. He was better than this.

And yet he couldn't seem to forget the vial of red.


End file.
